


an ideal outcome

by freezerjerky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Movie Night, Pre-Relationship, Trans Male Character, Trans Newton Geiszler, as God intended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 22:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: Blinking, Hermann gives Newt a blank expression. “If you want an authentic movie experience, why don’t you go to the theater and see a movie, then?”“Ooh, you asking me on a date, Hermann?” Newt has just enough cheek to wink at him before he saunters over to the microwave.The rising blush on Hermann’s cheeks is completely involuntary and not a reaction to any particular implication. Or so he tells himself. It’s not the first time Newt’s made an offhand comment like this, and he suspects it won’t be the last. Moving together after returning to civilian life is a tinderbox. There is always the threat of some sort of ignition and yet Hermann is too much of a coward to do something to actually make it happen, even if he craves the warmth of a fire.in which Hermann and Newt have a movie night





	an ideal outcome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WaldosAkimbo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaldosAkimbo/gifts).



> For the radiant Waldo, who wanted movie night fic...and for me who wanted porn.
> 
> Find me on twitter @ newtguzzler and tumblr @ pendragoff!

Nights like this have become too few and far between. They were far busier when they were trying to save the world, Hermann’s not going to argue that, but this is different. Routine plagues them now, in its own comfortable way. They wake up, argue over coffee in the morning, and go to their separate jobs. (Even though they’re on the same campus, it is a ten minute walk from Hermann’s office to Newt’s so he only does it once a day. Twice if the weather is exceptionally nice that day.) They both come home and work for a few hours after a quick dinner, then pursue their own quiet time. It’s pleasant in its own way, but Hermann can’t help but feel that something’s missing.

“Okay, this is legendary,” Newt says, holding out his movie selection. “This was like...the most impressive thing I’ve seen in theaters ever.”

“Newton, it’s a very awful movie.” Hermann’s standing in the kitchen, staring up in their cupboards at their snack options. It’s rather meager because it’s Newt’s week to shop and he hasn’t bothered to do the shopping yet. Typical.

“It’s enjoyable. Fun. Do you know how to have fun?”

Hermann purses his lips as he reaches for the kettle corn. Of course he knows how to have fun. It’s just that he’s been working Monday through Friday and then...working more on the weekends.

“Whoa, buddy,” Newt says. “Getting the fancy stuff out? We got some classic Orville buttery up there, I can assure you that’s much more the vibe we need.”

Newt shifts closer and Hermann’s too distracted by the proximity for a few moments to actually protest when Newt starts to root around on the top shelf for the packet of popcorn.

“You were the one who insisted we buy the damn popping...contraption for the stove. So we’re going to use it,” Hermann argues.

“Yeah, and it’s a great thing but this is a movie night. We’re gonna have junky popcorn and maybe some beers and not worry about things tasting good.”

“Why would we not have kettle corn if it’s better quality?”

“Because this is the authentic movie experience!”

Blinking, Hermann gives Newt a blank expression. “If you want an authentic movie experience, why don’t you go to the theater and see a movie, then?”

“Ooh, you asking me on a date, Hermann?” Newt has just enough cheek to wink at him before he saunters over to the microwave.

The rising blush on Hermann’s cheeks is completely involuntary and not a reaction to any particular implication. Or so he tells himself. It’s not the first time Newt’s made an offhand comment like this, and he suspects it won’t be the last. Moving together after returning to civilian life is a tinderbox. There is always the threat of some sort of ignition and yet Hermann is too much of a coward to do something to actually make it happen, even if he craves the warmth of a fire.

Instead, Hermann glares at the back of Newt’s head. Newt shimmies in front of the microwave, looking ridiculous in his oversized tee and pajama pants. Hermann suspects the soft socks he’s wearing have been stolen from his own drawers, but it’s not worth the argument, lest Newt counteracts with asking where Hermann has magically acquired a Saint Motel t-shirt. He’s grown used to this shirt and doesn’t have any intention to give it back, so he’ll have to allow a few pairs of socks to be sacrificed for the rather noble cause.

Hermann could, in that moment, settle for Newt’s snack choice. But he’s not going to give in and instead goes through the ordeal of pulling out their stovetop popper. It’ll set back the movie watching by a few minutes, but it’s not like he’s quite an old man with a set bedtime yet. Or at the very least he hopes not.

When he finishes, Newt’s already settled on their sectional with a bowl of popcorn and an open beer in front of him. There’s another sitting beside it. Hermann wants to scold him for putting these directly on the coffee table with no coaster but he thinks better of it. They’re going to have a good night. An enjoyable evening. And they’re not going to fall asleep in front of the television.

“Make your fancy popcorn?” Newt asks with a mouthful of his own food.

“Yes, Newton. I don’t see what the issue is here, we have the time, we have the resources, why not have something better quality.”

Hermann settles down comfortably on his side of the couch, trying to pay little mind to how seamlessly Newt lifts Hermann’s feet into his lap. It’s a habit now. Sometimes they’ll sit like this at night, grading papers or watching documentaries. Once, Newt attempted to tickle Hermann’s foot and ended up with a bloody nose for his efforts. He hasn’t tried that again.

For a few moments, Hermann finds he’s staring a bit too pointedly at Newt’s face. Newt’s gone a few days without shaving and his stubble’s gone wild, but Hermann doesn’t mind. He traces the lines from his forehead to his nose down to the soft curve of his chin with his mind, he wants to trace the slope with his finger, maybe with his mouth. Definitely with his mouth, but he doesn’t dare ask or initiate.

“Hermann?” Newt says, furrowing his brow. “Are you listening to me?”

“What, Newton?” Hermann answers, snapping out of the daze he didn’t even realize he was in. “What did you say?”

“I said that something that takes longer doesn’t always taste better, there’s no need to be pretentious for the sake of being pretentious.”

“It’s kettle corn, it’s still a snack!”

“And you’re trying too hard. Here, have some of this.” New thrusts his bowl of popcorn towards Hermann but he refuses.

“I’m not turning this into an argument.”

“Because I’m right!” Newt barks out. Something about his expression looks oddly hurt, but Hermann can’t place exactly why.

“Yes, yes. You’re always right.” Hermann rolls his eyes and takes the first swig of his beer.

“I’m just saying, you don’t always have to go with the fancy thing. Simple things can be good too,” Newt defends, as though it’s got some great importance.

“And I understand this, Newton. But indulgences are indulgences and this is what I’ve chosen for mine today.”

Rather than continue the argument, Hermann tugs at the knit blanket behind Newt and Newt shifts forward so he can pull it down onto his lap. The blanket was made by Hermann during the war, only he’d run out of yarn three quarters of the way through and nearly couldn’t complete it. Newt had gone into the city and found the closest match as well as a random skein of yarn “just in case” so that Hermann could finish the blanket in full. Of course, this gesture was still seen as sweet despite the fact that the reason the blanket was not initially finished was that it burnt up in the lab due to a miscalculation on the part of Newt. That doesn’t make the gesture any less sweet, Hermann thinks. It also doesn’t make the blanket any less ugly, but it is warm and comfortable and fills a sentimental hole that Hermann often likes to pretend doesn’t exist in his life.

When they’ve both settled in comfortably with their snacks, Newt switches on the movie. Hermann’s only seen it once before, but he suspects from the way Newt mouths along to the words that he’s seen it several times. It really wasn’t something he enjoyed, but something about Newt being happy in the watching is almost more pleasing than enjoying the movie himself. After all, there will be other movie nights and other chances to choose what he wants to watch. Or chances to let Newt win over and force them to watch Clueless for some reason he cannot place or a made for TV movie about a giant alligator terrorizing attractive teens. Newt is a complex man of many interests and tastes.

“You still awake?” Newt asks, pausing the movie for a moment. “I know we’re watching, but you got very quiet there.”

“Of course I’m awake,” Hermann protests. It’s true he’s becoming tired and his eyelids may be drooping, but he’s determined to see this movie through and that’s precisely what he’s going to do.

“Because we can stop if you’d rather go to bed, there’s always tomorrow or the next night or-”

“Tomorrow’s that mixer for the science faculty and the night after I have to plan my lecture for Monday.”

“Or a week or a month or a year or a decade from now.”

On one hand, Hermann is pleased to hear this. He’s pleased to know that Newt regards their future as something intertwined, that they’ll be embarking on together and as a unit. On the other hand, Hermann knows this is not realistic. He knows one day Newt will find someone he likes enough to embark on a whole other journey with and even if he tries to keep in touch with Hermann, even if he tries to maintain this precious thing they’ve created, it won’t be the same. It’ll never be the same. And Hermann will have to live with the lifetime of what-ifs and missed opportunities, and the thought that maybe Newt would be interested in him in this certain way. All he has to do is ask.

“The point is, Newton, the movie is almost halfway through, even if I am tired, which I’m not, we can finish it before I’m so tired sleep is essential. Now turn the movie back on, please.”

“Didn’t know you liked it so much,” Newt teases, but switches the movie back on. His attention is immediately sucked into the movie, which grants Hermann just a few moments of unguarded looks. There’s a painful heaviness in his chest and he wants to alleviate it, but the words he tries to form stick in his throat.

About ten minutes later, Hermann catches Newt trying to steal a handful of his kettle corn and reflexively reaches out for his hand.

“What are you doing?” Hermann asks, keeping grip of his hand.

“Mine’s all gone and you’re not gonna finish this.”

“After you fought me for so long about this you-”

“Hermann, you’re not gonna finish it, you never do. Just let me have some.”

Hermann eyes him up for a moment, he knows he’s going to let Newt have this, but there’s no reason he can’t tease just a bit. He likes to make Newt squirm. Newt in all his mature glory, sticks out his lower lip in a dramatic pout. It’s not as attractive as Newt’s been trained to think it is, or deceived himself into thinking it is. It’s almost because of this unappealing look, though, that Hermann finds it charming and relinquishes his grip on Newt’s hand. He pushes the bowl forward, letting Newt have whatever of its contents he wants.

“It’s nice to have nicer things now and then,” Hermann remarks.

“It’s fucking kettle corn, dude. It’s not that serious.” Newt laughs and shoves a handful into his mouth. He’s repulsive and vulgar and Hermann adores him. Hermann loves him.

“Can you go back to your movie now so I can have some peace?” Hermann has to feign annoyance, feign being gruff, because otherwise he’s going to melt and become too vulnerable, say things he wasn’t meant to say.

“I’m gonna get another beer, actually. Do you want one?” Newt stands, carefully moving Hermann’s feet off of his lap. He stretches and his t-shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of his soft stomach. Hermann wants to kiss him in that precise spot.

“No thank you.” Hermann’s beer is only half gone and if he has any more, he’ll definitely fall asleep on the couch. He’s not sure he won’t already.

He watches as Newt disappears into the kitchen. He hears rummaging through the fridge, the clanking of bottles against each other and then Hermann remembers.

“And don’t open it against the edge of the counter!” Hermann warns.

The next thing he hears is the tell tale sign of just that, followed by a soft and not at all remorseful “oops.” The Newt that returns to the living room betrays an equal level of lack of remorse and settles down in nearly the same position as before. Hermann wonders what would happen if he shifted to rest his head on Newt’s shoulder, just rested there beside him for a few moments. The curse of Newt is that he always looks comfortable, soft and warm and even his work clothes seem more comfortable than anything Hermann’s worn in his life. There are no sharp edges to Newt, he’s rounded himself so perfectly. Meanwhile, Hermann feels like each of his corners can be lethal in sharpness, an elbow to the stomach could kill a man who was weak enough.

Newt much notice Hermann’s looking, because he pauses with his beer half alight to his mouth. He takes a swig before he speaks.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Newt asks, rubbing at his face with his free hand.

“No, your face is...exactly as it usually is. Exactly as it should be.”

“Exactly as it should be.”

“It’s a bit uncomfortable sitting like this,” Hermann ventures. “I was wondering if I could lean against you for a moment.”

Newt looks shocked, but he nods. Hermann very carefully shifts on the couch, and they move both bowls of popcorn aside. Newt’s got his arm on the back of the couch, which Hermann takes as an invitation to tuck himself into that precise spot. It feels odd but very good, being this close. Newt smells like their fabric softener (for delicate skin) and his minty aftershave. Hermann hadn’t even realized that he’d shaved so recently. Who shaves for a movie night? Just for a moment, he steals a glance up at Newt before he looks back down. Before resuming the movie, Newt puts his arm down, settling it around Hermann.

Now this is an indulgence, this is something Hermann didn’t know he could have so easily. Newt is warm and soft and exactly what he’d imagined. He’s been close to Newt for in a variety of ways- he’s held him in a hug, he’s been in his head, they’ve worked closely together in a lab, but he’s never shared a sort of intimacy like this. This is an intimacy that implies they like each other, that they even have deep feelings for each other. For not the first moment, Hermann dares to hope that this is the case, that Newt feels remotely the same way for him as he does for Newt.

Because as much as he thinks of Newt falling in love with someone else, starting a life, and moving out of his, he also considers the other possibility. It’s true, their life has become routine and domestic already, but he imagines taking that another step. They kiss and spend their evenings wrapped up in each other. After a few months, they decide to share a bedroom and the spare room is turned into an office. After a few years, they buy a house and adopt two senior cats and start to talk about marriage. Hermann doesn’t care how the conversation about marriage ends, but it seems imperative that their relationship is serious enough that it’s a conversation that comes up at least once.

The fantasy is better than any movie, but it’s not enough to keep him awake when he’s pressed against a warm and comfortable body. Hermann gives into the urge and falls asleep, not caring about the judgement he’ll receive when he wakes up. There’s no harm in having something like precisely what he wants for just a few moments, just for a brief nap as he drifts off to sleep. Tomorrow he can go back to hoping, but for the few moments between being awake and asleep, he’s going to pretend instead.

“Gotta wake up,” Newt says, his voice both teasing and soft. “I’m not carrying you to bed, and I know that game of pretending to sleep. Pulled it on my dad until I was ten.”

Hermann carefully unfolds himself and stretches. “Never worked with my father, which I’m sure is no surprise to you.”

The end credits are rolling through and Hermann’s surprised Newt let him sleep for more than a few minutes.

“My dad used to humor me until one day he just had to sit me down and said ‘Newt-o, I’m too old, you’re gonna break my back’ and then I explained that was unlikely and that Uncle Illia had no problem doing it and then he said-”

At that moment Hermann’s taken a second to check the time and Newt freezes, just for a moment. It’s a full two hours after the movie was supposed to end, meaning they’ve sat through a whole other movie. Meaning Newt let Hermann sleep.

“He said,” Newt continues, his voice smaller than before, “Uncle Illia is not pocket sized like you and me, you’re still teeny tiny lizard boy to Illia.”

“Why’d you let me sleep so long?” Hermann asks. 

“You weren’t interfering with anything, it was fine. I figured if you were sleeping it was fine.”

“I thought you’d have shaken me awake or something before now.”

“I wanted to let you sleep.” Hermann’s not sure but he thinks Newt’s blushing. “Was that a problem?”

“I feel bad that I slept on you for that long.”

“I didn’t mind. I...I liked it,” Newt admits. “It felt natural, didn’t it? It felt good and normal to be that close to each other in that way. Don’t deny it.”

The last words should sound firm or accusatory, but there’s an insecure edge to them. He’s not telling Hermann it’s impossible to deny it, he’s begging Hermann not to retreat into his shell and deny a truth about their relationship with each other. It takes every ounce of self control Hermann has to not do so, but this is for Newt and there are very few things he wouldn’t do for Newt (though he’d never say as much.)

“It was nice, Newton,” Hermann says. “Thank you.”

“Nice,” Newt repeats, trying out the weight of the word on his tongue. “Nice. Okay, I get it.” Switching off the television, Newt rises to his feet. “Good night, Hermann. I’m glad you had a nice time tonight.”

“Are you angry?” Hermann is suddenly rather confused.

“No, no. I’m dis- no, I’m a bit angry, at myself. At you. Because I can’t tell if I read too much into everything or you’re just being deliberately obtuse.”

“I’m not-”

“I’m crazy for you, Hermann. Alright? Is that what you’ve wanted to hear? Have been for years now. And I thought we were finally getting somewhere with this, but apparently not. And I don’t know what else to do to make you comfortable with the idea of liking me, but now I’m thinking I got it all wrong because that was more than nice. That was ideal. That was wonderful. That’s how it’s supposed to be every night, not just when you decide to let your guard down for five minutes. I let the movie run through, I watched another with you sleeping on my shoulder because that’s what I wanted. That was the ideal outcome of the evening for me.”

“Newton.”

“Hermann.”

“Come back down here on the couch and I can make the evening more ideal for you.”

Newt’s brow knits together in confusion for a moment before actually listening to Hermann and sitting back down on the couch. This has to be very deliberate, Hermann knows. No hesitation, he has to act on what his heart wants him to do, not the years of repression and fear screaming in his brain. This is the love of his life, if such a thing exists, and he’s going to show him what it means to be loved the way he deserves.

“I’m crazy for you too,” Hermann begins. “I wouldn’t precisely phrase it like that, but the truth still remains the truth. I’ve spent the past few months agonizing over the fact that one day you’d want to leave and then I’d be bereft of my life’s greatest joy.”

“Agonizing? What are you, some romance novel hero? Are you going to start crying and rip open your shirt?”

Hermann narrows his eyes at him for a moment. “Do you want this love confession or not, Newton?”

“No, I do, I’m just thinking about you ripping open your shirt now and got distracted.”

Pressing his hand to his forehead, Hermann takes a big breath. Is this worth putting all of his emotions out in the open? Is this gremlin of a man who makes him watch awful movies and steals his kettle corn worth it? Yes, of course he is. Even at his most frustrating, Newt is worth just about any risk Hermann could take. After all, he willingly drifted with a disgusting kaiju brain for this man, and he can’t imagine Newt asking him to do much worse than that.

“I will not be ripping open my shirt,” Hermann adds. “That’s impractical and there are easier ways to remove a shirt.”

“You don’t say…”

“Newton, I love you.”

Newt looks shocked for a moment, as though the natural trajectory of their conversation hadn’t led him to that conclusion. (Or maybe he truly was too distracted at the prospect of seeing a bare chest.) He blinks a few times and then leans forward.

“Herms, can I kiss you? Is that allowed?” Newt asks, eager. Hermann nods but it’s Newt that stops him. “Wait. Wait. I love you too. There, now we can-”

Taking the initiative, Hermann is the one who closes the gap and presses his mouth to Newt’s, kissing him insistently. It’s been a while since Hermann’s kissed anyone- years, in fact, but it’s not as though a few years out of practice means he’s forgotten how to kiss completely. Newt’s hands flail for a moment, as though he’s unsure of where to put them. Hermann has to grab them, settle one on his waist and the other on his thigh, because they need to focus on kissing. Kissing is the important thing here.

Newt, bold and impatient, somehow ends up in Hermann’s lap as he kisses him. His positioning makes it obvious that he’s being mindful of Hermann’s bad leg, but otherwise he’s going into it with the gusto of a man possessed. He starts to trail kisses along Hermann’s jaw line and then down his neck. It’s been a long while since Hermann’s kissed, which means it’s been a long while since he’s done anything further and it doesn’t take long at all for him to react to this attention, to the response of a warm body on top of his. If it was anyone else, he’d be reacting like this, but the fact that it’s Newt leaves him gasping and eager.

“You know,” Newt says slyly, his face pressed against Hermann’s neck. “I think that’s my shirt and you should take it off.”

Hermann blushes deeply, all the way to the tips of his ears, at that comment. He’s not sure if it’s because of the implication that he’s stolen a shirt (he has) or the implication that Newt really does want to see him naked. Likely it’s a combination of both.

“I don’t take my clothes off in living rooms, Newton,” Hermann answers. He’s not sure if his tone is more flirtatious or strict, but either way it seems to work for Newt, who scrambles to climb off of his lap.

“Bedrooms are alright though, right?” Newt suggests, and he looks so handsome standing in front of the couch. “Unless...I mean we don’t have go to like...all the way. That makes me sound like a teenage boy I realize, but you know what I mean. I’m not expecting you to like...put it in me tonight.”

“Put it in you?” Hermann laughs and stands, gripping onto his cane. “What kind of sex have you been having, darling?”

For a moment, Newt falters like his brain has short circuited. “The kind where it’s just me, myself, and I, babe. I don’t think it’s been any different for you, so you’re not really in a place to pass judgement right now, you know.”

“Your room or mine?” Hermann suggests.

“Yours, mine’s got some experiments in it.” Newt all but trips over his feet on the way to Hermann’s room, and Hermann can’t help himself for finding this awkwardness charming in its own way. There’s no going back from this, both physically and emotionally. He’s more ready than he’s ever been.

“Newton,” Hermann chides, but it’s really too soft to be anything but a warning. 

They both stop for a moment, in the doorway of Hermann’s room. It’s just a moment, locked into a stare before Newt moves forward to pull at the hem of Hermann’s t-shirt, gently lifting it over his head. His eyes follow the lines of Hermann’s body, the hollowness and fullness, the muscle and the lean.

Without a word, Newt drops to his knees, and Hermann wants to tell him that the bed is more comfortable, that they can finish this there, but he also finds himself far more curious what Newt’s going to do in this position, what’s going on in his mind. When Newt tugs down his bottoms, Hermann has a white knuckle grip on his cane. He’s already thinking of ugly or embarrassing things to keep from embarrassing himself with this, he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself before Newt’s even touched him. Before he’s even touched Newt.

Newt nuzzles against his thigh, taking in something that Hermann can’t precisely understand. Is it the look of him? His scent? Newt’s fingers very delicately trace the scar tissue along Hermann’s thigh. In all their time as acquaintances and enemies and lab partners and roommates, Newt’s never asked about why Hermann uses the cane. To this day Hermann’s not sure if he’s read some article that gave it away, or he genuinely doesn’t care. But the keen interest he’s showing now is different, it’s something between the attention of a biologist, studying a fascinating specimen, and a lover, observing something adored. It makes Hermann feel cherished at the crux of two of Newt’s identities.

“Mind if I remove the briefs?” Newt asks, looking up at him. His glasses have slipped down his nose a bit, and they’ve fogged up, but Hermann imagines this would likely be difficult without his glasses given how much he relies on them.

“I’d like to see you. First. If you don’t mind.”

“Alright.” Newt presses a kiss to his cock, through the fabric of the briefs, but rises to his feet. He wastes little to no time tugging off his own shirt and tossing it aside completely, somewhere in the direction of Hermann’s hamper. “You can keep that.”

“You want me wearing your clothes all the time?” Hermann jokes.

“Kinda, dude. It’s a thing...it’s like-”

“I understand, Newton. I’m not immune to the weird desire to own or be owned by someone I care about. I’m not immune to many natural desires, if you’ll believe it.”

“I only partially believed it until now.”

Shirtless Newt isn’t a completely unfamiliar sight to Hermann. He’s never been one for modesty and it’s not uncommon for Newt to walk around without a shirt on for several hours in the morning on weekends or before work. After the first few weeks, Hermann had grown accustomed to it. That didn’t mean he wasn’t keenly interested now, because he surely was. If anything, the fact that it wasn’t a novelty made it all the more precious to have it like this now. Hermann’s able to drink his fill of Newt, the soft swell of his chest and stomach, the obvious but not too obvious muscle in his arms. He can see for the first time where the scar tissue lies beneath the tattoos, two identical scars on his chest and another lower, from an appendix removal about a decade prior. Hermann only knows this because they had been writing letters at the time.

“Now,” Newt begins. “When I take my pajama pants off, we’re uneven because I’m not wearing underwear.”

“Not wearing underwear?”

“Good to let it all air out, dude. Plus, I was just sitting at home. I didn’t expect to get laid tonight which...shit. That’s what we’re doing right? I just said that we didn’t have to and then I started to take all our clothes off.”

“Newton, there’s no need to ramble. Yes, I fully intend to have sex with you tonight, so relax. If you change your mind, that’s fine, if I change my mind, that’s also fine. Now, take off your pants.”

Instead of taking them down with urgency, Newt grips the waistband of his pants and starts to shimmy them down. “You gotta take your briefs off, Hermann. I wanna see what you’ve got there.”

Hermann blushes but agrees to the challenge, trying to match Newt’s pace in removing the final article of clothing. The shift in Newt’s expression, despite looking rather pleased, is enough to make Hermann want to hide himself away, but he doesn’t. They both stand in front of each other, perfectly exposed.

“No surprises, I hope,” Newt says, hiding a nervous chuckle. He’s not ashamed, but it’s clear this is a concern that’s come up once or twice in the past with new partners.

“No, I’m just...very pleased. With you. As a whole.” He doesn’t even know how to address the visible piercing and what it’s doing to him. 

“Baby, you haven’t even seen my ass yet.”

“Why don’t you get it on the bed, then?” Hermann orders softly and Newt wastes no time in obeying.

When they’re both settled on the bed, Hermann’s mountain of pillows half discarded, neither fully know where to put their hands. One moment, Hermann’s hand is on Newt’s chest, then his stomach, then his hip. It’s hard to consider foreplay as a physical act when they’ve been circling each other for years. But it seems uncouth to move to the main act with little preamble.

“Do you have lube?” Newt asks, very soon after Hermann’s pressed his mouth to his.

“Y-yes,” Hermann answers, sitting up to dig through his drawer for the lube.

“I’m ah, no discredit to you but I usually need a little bit to get, you know.”

“I’m not offended that you want to be comfortable, Newton.” Hermann kisses him again. Desire doesn’t show itself in one uniform way, after all. He does pop open the lube and squirt some onto his fingers. When he’s sure it’s amply warm, he slides his hand down, rubbing two fingers on either side of Newt’s clit.

Newt grips onto him, rolling his hips into the touch. It’s the type of desire that’s both flattering and intoxicating, Hermann’s doing nothing more than touching and its warranting this reaction. The positioning takes some time to get perfect, but he manages to shift so Newt can rut against his leg as he rubs him, giving him exactly the friction he’s seeking.

“I’m not going to fuck you tonight, darling,” Hermann says, his voice dripping with sweetness. “But I hope you know how much I want to, how perfect that will feel. I wouldn’t last if I did that tonight, you see, I’ve been waiting too long. I want to do justice, I want to leave you breathless and wordless and begging.”

“You think it would take me long to get to that point?” Newt has to stop through his sentence a few times to make pleased and mewling noises. “A bit harder, please.”

“That I can manage.”

Hermann starts to mouth along Newt’s neck, pressing opened mouth kisses and small bites. He’s forgotten how easy it is to bruise someone else, but given the way Newt reacts, he’s not going to stop. Newt cries out and tenses for a few long moments, and then he feels boneless in Hermann’s arms as he slows down the movement of his hips. He tugs at Hermann’s arm to move his fingers away and Hermann can feel him twitching against his fingertips. If Newt hadn’t stopped him, if Newt had asked him to continue, Hermann thinks he would have continued doing this forever.

“Just gimme like...two seconds, hmm?” Newt says between breaths. “Just- forgot what it’s like when you really like someone, you know?”

“When you love someone,” Hermann amends.

“Jesus, don’t get sappy on me, or I’ll jump on your dick and embarrass both of us.”

“Are you always this crass in bed?”

“Oh, baby. You have no idea just how crass I can be.”

“Look forward to seeing it.” Hermann smiles to himself.

Newt pushes him back on the bed and slides down. He grips Hermann’s cock, leaning forward to lick at the head. Hermann’s immediately reaching down, cupping his cheek and running a hand through Newt’s beautiful, messy hair. He moans when Newt takes more of him into his mouth, not just from the act, but from the fact that he can feel his cock through Newt’s cheek. And from the look on Newt’s face, hungry and eager, still with the half lidded pleasure of an orgasm hanging in his expression.

It’s an accepted reality that Hermann won’t last long. He has to trust that Newt knows this is entirely to his credit and not a typical performance, because he’s not going to deny his body the pleasure it craves. The pleasure it needs. Newt can’t quite take his whole length into his mouth, but he makes up for it by gently stroking with his hand. He’s a bit playful with his rhythm, but never doing anything that risks taking Hermann out of the moment, or risking hurting him. 

Hermann screws his eyes shut as he feels his orgasm building, thrusting up minimally into Newt’s mouth. He does attempt to apologize, but Newt’s very pleased moan encourages him to the contrary. His hand settles on Newt’s head, tugging gently at his hair.

“Newton, oh darling, I’m going to-”

Newt doesn’t wait for the final word, but he continues bobbing his head in earnest. Hermann gives into the feeling and falls apart under the attention, allowing himself to cry out loud enough that the neighbors probably hear. All the better for it, really, they’re miserable sods.

In the stillness of the aftermath, Hermann realizes Newt’s touching himself urgently and slumps down a few moments later. He’s flattered and pleased and were he a decade younger he suspects he’d be ready to go again. For now, he’ll have to settle for tomorrow morning, because it really is time to get some sleep.

They take a few moments to readjust and realign everything. Newt collects some of the pillows that have made their way onto the floor and leaves for the restroom. Hermann stares at the ceiling, unsure for a few moments if Newt’s returning, until he climbs back into the bed and curls up on his side next to Hermann.

“We’re gonna do that again, right?” Newt asks, looking hopefully at him.

“If you want to, I certainly want to.” Hermann leans over to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Newt presses himself closer, a very pleased creature, and Hermann realizes he’s still in his socks. They both are. Hermann peers up just enough to remind himself that Newt is, in fact wearing his socks. He doesn’t have much longer to observe, though, before Newt leans over and switches off the light. Hermann finds that he doesn’t mind.


End file.
